


unconscious

by kidlightnings (revolver)



Series: Whumptober 2019 [10]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-20 23:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21064637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revolver/pseuds/kidlightnings
Summary: when broken is easily fixed. or, so Asra wishes it were. but there's a first time for everything, including wiping the memories of the one you love





	unconscious

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 10 - Unconscious, for [Whumptober 2019](https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187356400823/october-approaches-and-so-does-whumptober-2019)  
Apprentice Ky details can be found [here](https://kidlightnings.tumblr.com/tagged/apprentice-ky) if desired!

Asra is fairly sure that his not waking up is a bad sign. He’s never done this before, though.

Ky has the mind of himself, an adult man, but knows  _ so little _ . He gets lost. He wanders off. He touches the hot top of the stove. He can barely manage to say what he needs. And now, he’s collapsed in their bed.

Asra was so  _ sure _ that now that he could have a conversation, if basic, that he might be ready to hear things, might be able to talk about himself. And now he has a catatonic mast-  _ apprentice _ .

It’s not that Asra is  _ impatient _ , but heavens above, is he exhausted. Worn down. He’s had to rush every trip into the market, he’s had to all but leash Ky to himself to keep him from hurting himself, disappearing into the crowd, walking right out the door and off to who knew where.

He looks from Ky, lying safely, comfortably, in bed, and then out onto the patio, and against his better judgement, Asra walks out. He steps into the sunlight, breathes deeply the fragrance of flowers in bloom. The blossoms desperately need to be pruned, but he just hasn’t had the time. If  _ they _ were still here, they’d be working alongside him, he’d let them guide his hands to which blooms to trim and which to leave, which buds to gently pinch off, and which to lay a tiny blessing upon. He leans out over the railing, looks over into their little paradise they’d cultivated. Dead leaves and blossoms and maybe some fruit the birds haven’t made off with mar, clutter the interlocking flagstones.

Asra backs off from the edge, and settles down with his back to the wall.

He feels his eyes sting as they fill, nearly spill. He bites his lip so as not to make a sound, shakes silently in his own embrace.

It’s so far against his better judgment, and yet, he feels he must. Asra slinks down the stairs and into their little garden. He feels guilty-  _ so guilty _ , but he’s picking up, sweeping leaves and flowers into a pile and gathering it into a bin - he’ll burn them later. He gingerly picks up the remains, worm-eatern and pecked, of fruit from the cool stone. Then, he kneels by each plant in turn, and he begins to tend. It’s something he’s seen done hundreds of times by Ky, but it feels so clumsy without their hands here to guide him. The shears feel so awkward in his hands, he feels afraid he’ll accidentally cut an entire branch, he’ll sever the most beautiful flower. Hot, wet tears dribble down his cheeks, only to keep going, to drip from his chin.

Asra hums to himself to try to soothe himself.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed, but he jumps, drops the shears as he feels warmth at his back.

“As-ra?” comes the unsteady diction. “I can help?”

Asra’s breath comes in a gasp as Ky’s hands wrap around his own.

His heart beats out of control in his chest. His skin feels hot, his eyes shoot down to check he isn’t responding any other way.

“Master?” Ky’s voice asks, lips terribly close to his ear. Oh, but he is  _ so _ bad at personal space, and selfishly, Asra hasn’t been terribly emphatic about it.

“O-of course,” Asra responds. “I have meant to show you how to take care of them, let’s do it together.”

He swallows so hard he’s sure Ky must have heard it.

“Thank you, Master!” he says, voice elated.

Asra sighs to himself. Yes, he can keep going.


End file.
